Welcome!
The basic concept of this fic came to me when I started re-watching the entire show from season 1, mainly after seeing "Spellbound" and "Toe Tags." I know the whole, 'helping-a-ghost-pass-on' thing has been done before, but it hasn't been done CSI style... I hope?
Anyway, this story is set during season 7 sometime after "Big Shots." May end up a little AU, but that's half the fun.
I don't own... well, much- apart from the obvious OC's and storyline.
Hope you enjoy!
MikalyaRose x

1. SEEING THINGS

Greg Sanders opened his eyes, coming to terms with his surroundings he rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling of his apartment. He had fallen asleep on the sofa again, surrounded by various snack foods and DVD's, his TV still on the menu screen of the last DVD he watched.

He had been given a weeks paid leave from CSI after finally settling the problems with the Demetrius James saga and majority of that week he had spent hanging around his apartment, watching old Las Vegas documentary DVD's and reading. It wasn't as if he had anything else really pressing to do. It was now the last day of his week off and Greg was very thankful to be heading into work this evening.

Greg looked over to the coffee table that sat in front of the couch, reaching over he managed to pick up his cell phone and flip it open. It was five in the morning. He had promised himself to start getting back into a good sleeping pattern towards the end of the week, however he kept forgetting. He hoped Grissom hadn't used up all of his personal coffee supplies, because he knew he was going to need it tonight.

As if someone was reading his mind, his phone began to ring in his hands. He looked down to the caller before answering it.

"Hey Grissom, what's up?" Greg asked, running his hands through his hair and looking up towards the ceiling again.

"Greg, we got a 419 a few blocks away from your apartment," Grissom's voice said on the other end of the line. "It's a 121 Collins Street. I'm a little short staffed at the moment, and I know you're not on the clock until tonight, but I could really use your help. Could you come over?"

"Um… yeah, sure Grissom," Greg said, smiling slightly. "I'll be there."

They hung up and Greg remained on the sofa for a while before slowly getting up, turning off the TV and making his way towards the bathroom. He took a quick shower to wake up before changing into jeans and a simple black t-shirt, with a fairly thick dark jacket over it. He put on his shoes before picking up his Forensic kit and heading outside, locking his door behind him and going down to his car.

He had driven along Collins Street a few times before on his way home, cutting through the back streets when wanting to avoid the traffic of the major highways, so he knew the area.

He made his way towards the street, turning down the road which was absolutely packed with people, all standing around a cream two storey house about midway down the street. It was as if the entire neighborhood had come out to stand around the house, with police cars surrounding the area and a long yellow tape around the exterior of the house.

Greg managed to park a few meters away, taking out his kit and making his way towards the house. He surveyed briefly over the crowd, seeing a frantic looking woman with her husband and young daughter talking to a police officer, all three of them wearing casual clothing with the daughter seeming fairly distant, staring off into space as her father held her hand.

Greg pushed through the crowd, going to duck under the police tape when he spied a blonde haired girl wearing light jeans and an elbow length grey top with small matching boots. She was staring towards the house, clutching her arms seeming unfazed by everything around her.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Greg said, politely as he ducked under the tape and walked over to her. "This is a crime scene; could you be able to get back behind the tape please?"

At first she didn't seem to notice him, before she looked at him, her eyes widening as she gasped a little.

"Sorry," she said, a little dazed before turning around and ducking under the tape, disappearing into the crowd.

Greg shook his head a little, wondering why nobody else had noticed her before but shaking it off. Everyone was really busy after all He turned back around and began to make his way towards the front door.

"Hey Greg!"

Greg turned around again, seeing his colleague Sara Sidle emerge from the crowd, Forensic kit in hand as she ducked under the tape and hurried over to him.

"I didn't think you were starting until tonight?" she asked him, smiling.

"Grissom called me," Greg responded, as they began to walk together towards the entrance to the house, "Figured I could help out."

"Well, it's good to have you back," Sara said, kindly. "I just wrapped up a case; it's been a really busy shift."

They nodded at the police officer standing at the door, walking inside and immediately pulling out their torches, wondering along the hallway before reaching the stairs, the officer standing in front of it gesturing for them to go up.

They made their way up the stairs, looking down the hallway where Detective Jim Brass was standing outside one of the doors. The two CSI's walked towards him, Brass gesturing to inside and they entered the room.

It was a fairly large room, with a single bed, a large wardrobe and a desk in the corner, with various books piled up to the ceiling. All of the furniture really matched and apart from the books, the room was incredibly tidy and mature looking. Assistant Corner David Phillips and the CSI Grave shift supervisor Gil Grissom were bent down on the floor in the center of the room, looking down over the body of a blonde haired girl who lay face down in a pool of blood.

"Thanks for coming," Grissom said, looking up at the two CSI's before returning his gaze to the victim.

"Who was she?" Sara asked, looking down at the victim empathetically.

"Her name was Tabitha Lawson," Brass said, walking into the room reading out the notebook in his hand as Sara took out her camera and began to take photographs of the body. "Tabby to her friends. She was a 23 year old student at Western LVU, studying literature. Parents got home from a date night at around 1AM and found her; they called the ambulance straight away."

"TOD?" Greg asked, curiously.

"Rigor indicates she hasn't been moved," David informed him, taking out a thermometer from his kit and slowly sticking into the lower back of the victim, the thermometer beeping before David looked down at it. "Liver temp is about 90, so she died around 5 hours ago."

"So by the time the parents got home, she was already dead," Sara said, slowly and staring down at the body. "What about cause of death?"

"Can we roll her over David?" Grissom asked and David nodded, removing the thermometer before helping Grissom to roll her over.

There was single bullet wound on her forehead, blood splattered across her face and through her hair. Her clothes were also slightly bloodied, her grey top and jeans with small spurts of blood on them.

Greg gasped quietly, stepping back a little.

"Greg, are you okay?" Sara asked, quickly noticing her friend's expression.

Greg breathed in deeply, shining his torch across the victim a few times before shaking his head.

"I know her," he breathed, the others eyeing him suspiciously. "I mean, I've seen her. Outside, just before on my way in."

"Before?" Grissom asked, concerned for his colleague. "She's been dead for five hours Greg, how could you have seen her?"

"I swear it was her," Greg spluttered, looking to Brass. "Does she have a twin sister or something?"

"No, just a younger one," Brass replied, worried also.

Greg put down his kit before he spun around, torch in hand as he walked hastily along the hallway and down the stairs, taking two at a time as he strode towards the front door, going outside and standing where he had seen the girl before.

He looked around crazily, but she was nowhere to be seen.

This was strange, it didn't just look like her, it was her. She looked exactly the same apart from the obvious bullet injury in her head; same clothes, same appearance… she was alive. What was he seeing?